The Death of King Arthur Read online

  ‘Fair lady,’ he answered, ‘it is not my part to defend her when her husband is here. If her lord had not been at court, of course I would have been her champion. If it happens that Segwarides does not succeed in rescuing her, then I may well ride in pursuit of Bleoberis.’

  The squire of Segwarides soon came back to the court, with the message that he had been badly wounded by Bleoberis and was now close to death. King Mark was disconsolate. So Tristram, moved and saddened by this news, prepared himself to do battle with Bleoberis. Gouvernail, his companion, went with him, carrying his sword and spear. They rode a long way until they came to a valley, where they saw ahead of them Bleoberis, his squire and the lady herself.

  Sir Tristram galloped hard after them. ‘Knight of Arthur’s court,’ he called out. ‘Stay! Return this lady or surrender her to me.’

  ‘I will do neither. I have no fear of any Cornish knight.’

  ‘No fear? Then fight.’

  So they rode down upon each other and clashed with a sound like thunder. They jumped from their saddles, and lashed at each other with their swords. They fought for more than two hours, and were sometimes so weary that they lay gasping on the ground. Eventually Sir Bleoberis stood back. ‘Gentle knight, rest your arm a little. Let us speak together.’

  ‘Say what you will. I am listening.’

  ‘I would like to know, sir, your name and your descent.’

  ‘I will tell you. I am the son of King Melodias, and my mother was the sister of King Mark. I am called Sir Tristram de Liones.’

  ‘I am very glad to meet you. You are the knight who defeated Marhalt in hand-to-hand combat over the tribute due to Cornwall. You are the knight who overcame Sir Palomides at the tournament.’

  ‘I am the man. Now I have told you my name, you must tell me yours.’

  ‘I am Bleoberis de Ganis, brother of Blamoure and cousin of Sir Lancelot du Lake.’

  ‘Cousin of Lancelot? I will fight you no longer. I have too great a love for that peerless knight.’

  ‘I will return the compliment. Since you have come this way to rescue the lady, I will leave her free to decide her own fate. I will place her midway between us. She may choose whomever she pleases.’

  ‘I believe, sir, that she will come to me.’

  ‘Well, sir, we will see.’

  So the lady dismounted and stood between them. Then she spoke to Sir Tristram. ‘You know well enough that you were the knight I trusted and honoured most in the world. I supposed that you loved me above all others. But when you saw this knight ride off with me, you made no attempt to rescue me. You left it to my husband. I had thought you had more concern for me than that. So now I forsake you, and renounce my faith in you.’ With that, she went over to Bleoberis. Tristram was incensed with her. How could he return to court without her?

  ‘I believe you are to blame,’ Bleoberis said to him. ‘I hear that this lady loved you but in the end, as she says, you deceived her. But I am not eager to keep her. A bolter is always a bolter. What will happen when she becomes tired of me? Here. Take her back.’

  ‘Oh no, my lord,’ she said, ‘I will never go with him. He forsook me in my hour of need. Ride off, Sir Tristram. Even if you had defeated this knight, I would still not have been yours.’ She turned to Sir Bleoberis. ‘Before you leave this land,’ she pleaded with him, ‘I ask you to take me to the abbey where my husband lies wounded.’

  ‘Do you hear her, Sir Tristram?’ Bleoberis asked him. ‘She does not want you. As for me, I have completed my quest. But for your sake, sir, I will now escort her to her husband.’

  ‘Thank you,’ Tristram replied. ‘I will be more wary in future where I put my affections. Had her husband been absent from the court, I would have been the first to ride to her rescue. But now – farewell.’

  Tristram rode back to Tintagel, heavy of heart, while Bleoberis took the lady to her husband. Segwarides was greatly comforted by the sight of her, and was grateful to Tristram for fighting to save her. When she came back to court, she told the story of the battle to King Mark. When she praised Tristram for ensuring that she was returned to her husband, the king was secretly enraged. He resolved to kill Tristram, and pondered on the means of doing this. He decided to send him to Ireland, where he might be dispatched by his enemies. Tristram had often told him of the beauty and grace of Isolde, so now he asked the knight to bring her back to Cornwall; the king told him that he wished to marry her. Tristram was aware of the danger in returning there, but he could not refuse his uncle’s request. He made himself ready for the journey, and took with him some worthy knights.

  Read of Tristram’s victory in the tournament

  They had just set sail when a storm at sea sent them eastward along the coast of England, not far from Arthur’s court at Camelot. They came to land, sick and weary, at the place now known as Portsmouth. They scrambled for the shore and, when they reached dry land, Tristram set up a pavilion from which he suspended his shield as a token of his willingness to fight. He had not reached Ireland, after all, but the King of Ireland was closer than he thought. It so happened that Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamoure had summoned King Angwish to the court of King Arthur, the King of Ireland’s overlord; they accused him of killing their cousin. In those far-off days, murder was considered to be a form of treason; so King Angwish had to fight the charge in his own person or find a champion. There was no other remedy. The judges granted him three days to give his answer. Gouvernail came to Tristram’s pavilion and told him of the plight of the king. ‘God save me,’ Tristram said, ‘this is the best news I have heard in seven years. The King of Ireland now has need of my help. I dare say that there is no knight in the kingdom, outside Arthur’s court, that would dare to do battle with Sir Blamoure. I will take it upon myself to be the king’s champion, so that he will gladly give me Isolde.’

  Gouvernail went at once to King Angwish. ‘I know a knight who wishes to speak to you, sire. He desires to serve you.’

  ‘What is his name?’

  ‘Sir Tristram de Liones. For the favours you showed him in your own country, he wishes to fight on your behalf.’

  ‘Come with me,’ the king replied. ‘We will call upon Sir Tristram.’

  With a few friends they took horse and rode to the pavilion. When Tristram saw the king coming, he would have taken his stirrup. But the king dismounted lightly and held Tristram in his arms.

  ‘My gracious lord,’ Tristram said, ‘of your great goodness to me, I cannot speak enough. So instead I will serve you to the full extent of my power.’

  ‘Gentle knight, I have never had more need of you than now. You know that I have been challenged by Sir Bleoberis and Sir Blamoure. These are hard men to beat. You have come upon Sir Bleoberis before, I believe.’

  ‘I will do battle for you, as long as you swear on oath that you had nothing to do with the death of their cousin.’

  ‘I do so swear.’

  ‘There is one other thing. If I win this battle for you, will you give me any reward that I believe to be reasonable?’

  ‘God help me, you will have whatever you wish.’

  ‘Well said, sir. You may proclaim that your champion is ready. I would rather die in this combat than be considered a coward.’

  ‘I have no doubts about you,’ the king replied. Then he returned to court, and informed the judges that a knight had come forward to do battle on his behalf. Sir Tristram was called before them, to hear the charge against King Angwish. When the knights of the court saw Tristram they spoke much of him, extolling his exploits against several great warriors.

  Sir Bleoberis came over to Sir Blamoure. ‘Brother,’ he said, ‘remember what stock we come from. Sir Lancelot is our cousin. None of our kin has ever been defeated in battle. Suffer death rather than be shamed!’

  ‘Have no doubt about me, brother. I shall never shame one of our blood. I have heard that this knight here is as valiant as any other in the world, but I will never surrender to him. That vile word will not pas
s my lips. I would rather that he killed me.’

  ‘God be with you then. But be careful of him.’

  ‘I put my trust in God.’

  So Blamoure and Tristram rode out to either end of the lists, and then galloped against each other with their spears thrust out. They came together with the noise of thunder, and Blamoure was dislodged from his horse. He took out his sword at once, telling Tristram to alight and face him on the field. ‘My horse has failed,’ he cried, ‘but I trust to God that the earth is on my side!’

  So Tristram leaped off his horse, and the two of them fell upon each other with their swords. The battle went this way and that, now favouring one and now inclining towards the other, as the blood of both men spread over the ground. Then Tristram delivered one astounding blow, and Blamoure fell to his knees before sinking down. Sir Tristram stood still and watched him.

  When Blamoure could speak, he said this: ‘Sir Tristram de Liones, I require you, as a noble knight, and the best I have ever fought, to kill me now. I would rather die here with honour than live in shame. I will never surrender, not even if I were offered all the world. So come. Deliver the final blow.’

  When Sir Tristram heard him speak so nobly, he was not sure what to do. For the sake of Sir Lancelot he was unwilling to slay Blamoure. Yet if he did not surrender, Tristram was duty bound to kill him.

  Tristram went over to the judges and kneeled down before them. ‘I beg you, sirs,’ he said, ‘to decide this matter. It would be, for me, shame and pity if this knight were to die. I know well enough that there will be no shame for him in living. He has discharged himself with honour. And I will ask the king, in whose cause I have fought, to take mercy on this man.’

  King Angwish then stepped forward. ‘So help me God, Sir Tristram, I will be ruled by you. Let the judges here make their decision.’

  The judges then called for Sir Bleoberis to speak with them. ‘My lords,’ he said, ‘the body of my brother has been beaten this day. But his heart is as noble as ever. Let Sir Tristram now finish his task. Better to die than be dishonoured.’

  ‘That cannot be,’ they cried out. ‘Both the king and his champion have taken pity upon him.’

  ‘As you will then,’ Bleoberis replied. With that the judges came together and cleared King Angwish of the charges against him. Then they reconciled the parties of this combat. Tristram promised never to fight the two brothers again, and they in turn swore that they would always treat the noble knight with respect.

  Read how Tristram and Isolde drink a magic potion

  King Angwish and Tristram then returned to Ireland, where the king proclaimed the valour of his champion. No one was more joyful than Isolde herself, who loved Tristram more than any other man. Before long, the king asked Tristram a question.

  ‘Why, sir, have you not asked me for the boon I promised you?’

  ‘Now, my lord, has come the time. I ask for the hand of your daughter. Not for myself, but for my uncle, King Mark of Cornwall.’

  ‘Alas, Tristram, I would give all my lands if you would wed her yourself!’

  ‘That cannot be. I will not be false to my lord. Therefore, sir, I beg you to keep the promise that you made me. Allow me to take her back to Cornwall.’

  ‘I place her entirely in your hands. You may do as you wish with her. If you decide to marry her yourself, that would please me most. If you must give her to King Mark, that is your choice.’

  So, to cut matters short, La Belle Isolde was made ready for her journey together with her lady-in-waiting Dame Bragwaine. Before they left for Cornwall, Bragwaine and Gouvernail, Tristram’s companion, had an audience with the queen. ‘Take this, both of you,’ she told them. It was a flask of liquor, amber of hue. ‘On the wedding night, make sure that King Mark and my daughter drink this. When they have done so, they will love each other all the days of their lives.’

  So they took the drink, and departed for the boat. They were not long at sea when Tristram and Isolde both grew thirsty. They saw the flask, on a table close to them, and Tristram took it up. He thought that it contained good wine, and he held it in his hands. ‘Madam Isolde,’ he said, ‘we have been denied a blessing. Here is wine that our servants, Bragwaine and Gouvernail, were going to keep for themselves!’ They both laughed and drank to each other; they had never tasted sweeter liquor in all their lives. And in that moment they fell so deeply in love that their hearts would never be divided. So the destiny of Tristram and Isolde was ordained.

  They sailed on until they came close to the coast of Cornwall, and by chance landed near Castle Pleure, which in English means Castle of Weeping. It was an unhappy place to visit. They rode up, looking for welcome, but instead they were taken prisoner by six armed knights. They were led to a prison in the depths of the castle where they could see no light and hear no voices. While Tristram and Isolde languished in confinement, a knight and lady came to cheer them. ‘What is the reason for this treatment of us?’ Tristram asked them. ‘I have never heard before of guests being taken and cast into prison.’

  ‘The master of this place,’ the knight replied, ‘is Sir Brewnour. It is his custom. If a knight comes here, he must fight with him. And the weaker must lose his head. There is something else. If the lady he brings with him is less beautiful than Brewnour’s wife, then his lady must also be beheaded.’

  ‘God knows that is a shameful custom. I have one consolation. The lady I bring with me is fair beyond any mortal creature. She will not lose her head. I know that well enough. So inform Sir Brewnour I will be ready to meet him in battle whenever he wishes.’

  On the following morning he was led to the field, where he was furnished with his own horse and armour. Sir Brewnour came out, holding the hand of his wife, whose face was covered with a scarf. ‘Sir Tristram,’ he said, ‘now comes the moment of truth. If your lady is fairer than mine, then I give you permission to take off my lady’s head. If mine is more beautiful than yours, then I will behead your lady.’

  ‘This is a foul course you have chosen,’ Tristram told him. ‘I would rather lose my own head than put any lady at risk.’

  ‘No. It cannot be. The ladies must be shown together.’

  So Tristram brought forth Isolde, and with his sword turned her three times so that all might see her. Then Sir Brewnour took off the scarf, and presented his lady. As soon as Brewnour saw Isolde, however, he knew that she would be awarded the victory. And so it was. All the people that were present agreed that Isolde took the palm for beauty.

  ‘There we have it,’ Tristram said. ‘It seems that my lady will not lose her head. As for yours, well, her case is a hard one. You and she have continued a barbaric custom here in this castle, and it would be no sin to behead you both.’

  ‘If you slay her, doubt not that I will slay you and keep your Isolde.’

  ‘We shall see.’ And, with that, Tristram strode over to Sir Brewnour’s wife and with one stroke of his sword took off her head.

  ‘Well, knight,’ Brewnour said, ‘you have brought great dishonour to me. Mount your horse and let us fight it out.’

  So they rode against each other, and Tristram knocked Brewnour to the ground. But he got up and thrust his spear between the sides of Tristram’s horse, so that it fell dead. Tristram dismounted lightly, and they both traded blow for blow. They fought for two hours, until Tristram took Brewnour in his arms and threw him grovelling to the earth. He grabbed Brewnour’s helmet, and his vizor, and tore them off before beheading him.

  Then all the company of the castle came out, praising Tristram for breaking the power of evil company and evil custom. It so happened that one of the knights then galloped to the castle of Sir Galahalt, son of Brewnour, and told him the news. So Galahalt took off in the company of the King of the Hundred Knights, and sent out a challenge to Tristram. It was accepted, of course, and the weapons of the two warriors soon clashed. When Galahalt stumbled, and was likely to be slain, the King of the Hundred Knights rode out with all his companions.

&nb
sp; Tristram turned to Galahalt. ‘This is great shame to you,’ he said, ‘to send all your fellowship against me.’

  ‘There is no other way. Either you must yield to me or die.’

  ‘So. I surrender. But not to you. To the might of these men massed against me.’ And, with that, he put the pommel of his sword in his opponent’s hands. At that moment the king and his company charged Tristram.

  ‘Hold back!’ Galahalt cried out. ‘I have promised this man his life.’

  ‘More shame on you,’ the king replied. ‘He has killed your father and your mother.’

  ‘As for that, I cannot blame him. My father obliged him to do battle.’ Then he told the king of his father’s shameful custom of beheading the ladies who came to the castle. ‘That is why,’ Sir Galahalt said, ‘I would never fight on his behalf.’

  ‘You were right,’ the king said. ‘It was a wicked practice.’

  Then Galahalt turned to Tristram. ‘Tell me, sir, what is your name?’

  ‘I am Sir Tristram de Liones. I have been sent by King Mark of Cornwall to bring back this lady here. She is Isolde, daughter of the King of Ireland.’

  ‘Well met! I give you leave to ride wherever you wish, on condition that you look out for Sir Lancelot and join his fellowship.’

  ‘I promise you. As soon as I see him, I will ask to become one of his company. Of all the knights in the world, I most desire to serve him.’ Then Tristram took his leave of Galahalt and, with Isolde, put out to sea again. The two lovers sailed to the court of King Mark at Tintagel, where they were greeted by all the lords and ladies waiting on the shore. As the ship came in sight the courtiers waved to them, and called out blessings upon them. Isolde was then given to King Mark in matrimony, and there was much feasting. Yet, as the old books tell us, Tristram and Isolde were steadfast in their love.